Over
by nij2401
Summary: Immediately after the Battle of Hogwarts. I have no clue where this came from. Let's just say it was inspired by a graveyard and a song. Rated T for strong language. P.S. the words in italics are Harry's thoughts (well, most of them.)
1. Chapter 1

It was over. But it wasn't really and he knew it. People had died. After Harry had successfully 'disposed' of the Elder Wand, he had come back to the Hall. Teachers were cleaning up using magic, but Harry could literally see the weight that was dragging their hearts down. He saw a crying little girl run towards Hermione out of the corner of his eye. Hermione hugged her and tried soothing her, but her own eyes were bloodshot. Ron was hugging his sister and the number of brothers that remained with him. Harry was getting handshakes from weary men and women; some widowed or widowers, others orphans, others without siblings. He heard a familiar _crack_ and saw Andromeda with baby Teddy. She turned pale at the sight of her late daughter and son-in-law.

Harry pondered the other fifty who had fallen in the Battle. He wondered who they were. Only then did he realise that they were... people. They had a family. They had friends. They had enemies. They had a character. Some of them had their whole life in front of them. And it was all gone. Just like that. They were going to be shoved into holes with gravestones and people would just walk right past and feel sorry for them without wondering not _what _they were but _who_ they were. He knew that the world would take forever to mend.

The Battle was over, but the fight was still on.


	2. Chapter 2

The Burrow was hectic after Fred's funeral. Piles and piles of food were served; fruitcakes, chocolate cakes, Battenbergs, sausage rolls, scones, chicken nuggets and everything else you could possibly serve at a funeral with 400 attendees. Harry thought that Mrs Weasley just wanted to keep her mind off things by cooking. Remus and Dora's funeral was the next week and Mrs Weasley was helping Andromeda cook. He couldn't bear it. Midway through the wake, George ran off to the bathroom. Seconds later, retching noises were heard. George hadn't eaten since the morning and retching on an empty stomach is far worse than vomiting on a full one. Harry's head was swimming. Ron and Ginny were having conversations with people they barely knew, all of them having lives touched by Fred. It must have been horrible for them. Ginny sat on the sofa, her beautiful, long red hair masking her face.

_Ginny... My Ginny..._

He didn't want her to cry. He excused himself, but someone offered him some Firewhisky. He'd only ever had it once, when Moody died. It had revived his insides. It had made him feel like there was point to the world. He definitely felt like he needed a lot of it. He took the glass from the stranger's hand and swigged it. It felt... amazing. His eyes felt rejuvenated. He felt himself walk with a spring in his step, a spring he'd never had before. He couldn't smile, but he felt empowered. He drank more and more until...

* * *

><p>He woke up on the sofa in The Burrow. He had a bottle in his hand and a splitting headache. The Weasleys didn't keep aspirin in their house and he couldn't heal himself, so he decided to wait for Hermione or Mrs Weasley. He drank some water and realised that he had been properly drunk for the first time. But what did it matter? He had felt better. Now, as he thought about the current situation, the weight pulled at his stomach again. He couldn't drink so early in the morning, but he planned to try as soon as possible.<p>

After a while, the family came down to breakfast, a silent affair. Mrs Weasley quickly relieved Harry of his pain.

"Mum, is it OK if Hermione goes to Australia to fix her parents' memories?" Ron asked.

"Are you sure you want to go alone, dear?" Mrs Weasley enquired.

"I was going to go with Ron but you probably want to be with him..."

"It's fine. I don't mind. Just because Fred..." At this point she couldn't control herself. It was the first time his name had been mentioned outright.

"This is what I meant. I shouldn't take him. It's fine, Mrs Weasley. I'll go alone." Hermione stood.

"No! No, dear, don't feel... I should let him go. It's fine. Just let me know if there's any trouble."

"It'll take a while for the flight anyway, so we won't go for at least a week." Harry realised she was purposefully going by plane rather than Apparating to delay their leaving for as much as possible. He decided he should do something too.

"Mrs Weasley, I think I should go to Hogsmeade for a while," he said.

"Why?"

"You need to be around your own family right now."

"I AM SICK AND TIRED OF PEOPLE TELLING ME WHAT THEY THINK I NEED! HARRY, YOU ARE PART OF MY FAMILY NOW! SO IS HERMIONE! PLEASE STOP TELLING ME WHAT'S BEST FOR ME WHEN I WOULD BE EQUIVALENT TO YOUR MOTHER!" Mrs Weasley bellowed.

"WELL, YOU AREN'T MY MOTHER! YOU CAN'T STOP ME LEAVING!" Harry stormed out and went to pack his bags.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry ran down the steps, wanting nothing more than to get away. He felt so ashamed of himself. He'd unintentionally shouted at poor Mrs Weasley, a mother who had just lost a child. Just as he was about to open the door, Mrs Weasley ran up to him. She'd obviously been crying.

"I'm sorry Harry. It's just all been so stressful and... I didn't know what I was saying. I..."

"I'm sorry as well. You... you've been a mother to me for seven years now. But I still feel I need to go."

"Don't. You don't have to leave for us. This is your home."

"I... just need some space. I hope that's alright." He was out of the door before she could say another word. He Apparated to the Three Broomsticks, where he found an empty table. The weight in his stomach pulled like an entire team of tug-of-war players. He could see Hogwarts students walk around the village, as the school had been closed early. He was reminded painfully of Colin. He was about to order a Firewhisky when-

"Hello Harry. Have you been with Ron and Hermione?"

Luna and Neville strode to his table. He was actually quite glad to see them, as he was wondering where they were.

"Yeah. They're in Australia trying to mend Hermione's parents' memories."

They both looked puzzled, but neither of them asked.

"Well, I guess it's over. After all of that." Neville said.

"Thank God! It was horrible! Terrible! Seeing so many first years screaming for their parents..." Luna shook her head.

"Well, it isn't great now to be honest." Harry remarked.

There was an awkward silence between the three.

"Listen guys, I guess I just want to say... thanks. A lot." Harry broke the spell.

"For what, Harry?" Luna's lilting voice asked. Those three words hit Harry like ice. Had they honestly thought they were doing their duty by risking their lives for what sometimes seemed to be a lost cause?

"For being there. For helping. For supporting us. For doing what you did. You can't honestly tell me you thought it was easy! I mean, the only other person who's done that is Ginny."

_And of course all those who died for me..._

"Well, mate, we never thought it was easy but we thought we owed it to you. You and Ron and Hermione are what kept us alive."

"Don't go on about the 'you're my inspiration' crap."

"It's the truth, Harry, whether you like it or not. 3 Butterbeers, please," Luna was now talking to Madam Rosmerta. Harry really wanted something stronger but Luna was already placing his order.

"Horrible, isn't it? So many children with only one parent, so many widows and widowers and people without siblings. I honestly don't know how the world will cope."

Harry's stomach twisted into an elegant knot. He had to get his mind off it. He HAD to.

"Madam Rosmerta," he asked, "is there any way I could rent a room here for a week or two?"

Rosmerta sighed. She was obviously having to cope with a lot of lodgers.

"You won't have to provide me with food. I'll just need a bedroom and bathroom, I don't care how small."

"No, no, it's fine, dear, just give me a moment."

Harry, now that his lodging was ready, started to have a long conversation about nothing to do with the Battle with Neville and Luna.


	4. Chapter 4

Two weeks passed by. Harry assumed that Ron and Hermione would have at least left England. He wondered how they would cope for some time alone together. They hadn't talked about _them_ since the Battle. _Them_ as in the couple version, anyway. Harry was glad that they weren't rushing into things. He didn't want to be split between them.

He started wandering around Hogsmeade as he normally did. He paused outside Honeydukes. He remembered all those days spent aimlessly walking around, wondering what sweets to buy. Chocolate Frogs or Sugar Quills? Liquorice Wands or Cauldron Cakes? _Sweets... All I had to worry about back then... sweets... whilst Voldemort was scaring the crap out of people..._

He decided to go in, just to see what the place was like. He decided to buy stuff for Ron and Hermione, if not for him. When he came out, he had finally decided on Fizzing Whizzbees for Ron, Peppermint Toads for Hermione and a packet of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans for himself. He took one last glance at the trapdoor leading to the cellar before he went. He'd used the passageway in his third year to go to Hogsmeade when the Dursleys wouldn't sign his permission slip. He realised how stupid he was back then. He carried on walking, deciding it was time to go back to the Three Broomsticks. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zonko's Joke Shop. He wondered whether to go in, and then decided not to. All he could think of was the gleam of delight in Fred's eyes whenever he went in there. He carried on walking. The weight was becoming all too familiar but he had a master plan. He had started to steal tiny bits of Firewhisky whenever Rosmerta was asleep. He only took a goblet. Or two. Or four. But it made him feel better as he sunk into a stupor. It relieved his dreams of the pale, ghostly faces. It was a good enough reason.

Wasn't it?


	5. Chapter 5

One week later, Harry found a letter on his bed. He quickly opened it, wondering who it was. He recognised Hermione's slanted writing immediately.

_Dear Harry _(the letter said)_,_

_Everything's absolutely fine. I cleared things up with the Australian Embassy, and traced Wendell and Monica Wilkins. Only now, they are no longer Wendell and Monica Wilkins. My parents are now successfully Emma and Jonathan Granger! I felt way too traumatised to do it, so Ron selflessly offered to do it for me. And, would you believe it, he did it right! _

_The flight there was OK, but Ron hasn't been on an aeroplane before, so it was a little awkward for him. And, before you say anything, nothing happened between us. My parents seem to guess we... you know. Our flight back is in about a week. We're going to come straight to Hogsmeade, so we hope that's OK. I feel really worried about Mrs Weasley, though. I mean, she's just lost a son! And now we're leaving her alone. Ron and I decided we should go there ASAP._

_Write back as soon as you get this,_

_Hermione._

_P.S. Do not use an owl. We're staying in a Muggle hotel and it would look odd if an owl delivered a letter. Here is our address:_

_Miss Hermione Granger  
>103 Hackton Hotel<em>_  
>64 Wallaby Way<br>Sydney NSW 2000  
>Australia<em>

Harry smiled as he read the letter. He could imagine Hermione saying it. He borrowed a quill, some ink, a fresh roll of parchment and an envelope.

_Dear Hermione _(he wrote)_,_

_All is good here. People from Hogwarts are staying in the village because school finished early. I wonder whether it's worth it to retake our seventh year. Anyway, how are things between you and Ron? Bickered much when you were in Australia? I'm really looking forward to you coming. I need someone to talk to. Honestly, all I want to do is shop in Hogsmeade and people keep staring and sighing and giving me sympathy. Otherwise, it's all good. I found a room in the Three Broomsticks, so you can meet me there. _

_Thanks a lot,_

_Harry._

He sealed the envelope and decided to go the Muggle post office later. He decided to nap for a while. He was woken by a knock on the door. He wasn't bothered to see anyone, so he didn't answer. An envelope slid through the crack under the door. He recognised Ron's scrawl.

_Hey Harry,_

_Hope things are OK. I modified Wendell and Monica's memory by myself! And it worked! Anyway, did Hermione tell you anything about how she feels about __me? We haven't talked about it at all. There's nothing much to say I suppose. Hermione's sent you a letter if you haven't got it. She's said everything._

_See you later,_

_Ron._

Harry wrote a curt reply, before sealing the letter and flopping on to his bed. He groaned. Hopefully, when Ron and Hermione came back, he wouldn't feel like dying inside.

_A/N: Sorry if I got the Australian postcode wrong! Special shout out to **Crystalline-Enchantix** for being my first reviewer!_


	6. Chapter 6

Life began to get really repetitive. Buying food, eating food, meeting people, getting sympathy, giving sympathy... endless. He didn't want to go anywhere without Ron and Hermione. Even worse, he had to drink less Firewhisky than normal because Madam Rosmerta was starting to wonder where it was all going.

At last, one day while he was reading the _Daily Prophet_, he could hear Ron and Hermione coming up the rickety stairs.

"Ron! I gave you my handbag for two minutes while I went to the bathroom and all of a sudden it's gone! And it's on an empty table! Can I trust you at all?"

"Well, you trusted me to change your parents' memories, didn't you? It was a JOKE, Hermione! A silly prank!"

"We're not children to play pranks anymore!"

"Well, after all we've been through don't you think we're entitled to be REAL children for once?"

"HONESTLY, RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY? ANYONE WOULD THINK YOU WERE FRED OR GEORGE, PLAYING PRANKS AT A TIME LIKE THIS!"

There was a deafening silence. Harry could feel the blood leaving his face, and he felt certain that Ron's ears were turning a bright crimson. Then he heard footsteps, followed by the slamming of two doors. Evidently, they had separate rooms. Not _quite_ what Harry was expecting.

There was a knock on his door.

"Who is it?"

"Ron!"

"It's open!"

In came Ron, carrying a small suitcase and a big trunk- his school trunk, Harry realised.

"Rosmerta just came in and told me to evacuate for an emergency. Mind if I share with you?"

"Well, given the fact you've shared with me for the past seven years, not too much of a problem anymore."

Ron grinned and opened the sofa-bed using his wand.

"Well, honestly? I thought Hermione would be your first choice for room sharing." Harry smirked.

"Give me a break, mate. I mean, we haven't had... the talk yet. And we just had a massive fight. She-"

"I heard. But people in Zonko's probably didn't."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Listen, we need to get to Mum's as soon as possible."

"I know. When are we leaving?"

"Two days?"

"Great." He was actually aching to see Ginny again. He turned away to think about her, as if Ron could see into his head. He thought about her in detail: her fiery hair; her rich brown eyes; her slightly pale, fresh face; her smile that lit up the room. He imagined holding her slender waist whilst she had her hands round his neck, while their lips met, and that moment lasted for eternity. He felt slightly less sick.

"Harry? Are you there, mate?"

"Hm? Oh, uh, yeah. Just got, um, carried away."

"You think you'll be ready to go in two days?"

"More than ready." He stretched his mouth as much as possible in the form of a smile.


	7. Chapter 7

They left after two days and made their way to the Burrow safely. Hermione and Ron were being barely civil to each other. Harry couldn't help but grin. Ron and Harry shared a room, Ginny and Hermione shared a room, and all the rest had their own rooms. George was having to get used to the fact he had his own room.

Harry now kept a secret bottle of Firewhisky in a drawer, which he had placed an Invisibility Charm on. When he woke up in the middle of the night and felt a gaping hole in his stomach, he used that special liquid to fill it. It helped him, even when he felt like he was being eaten from the inside out.

One such night, he was reaching for it, when he dropped it. The crash woke Ron. He saw what the commotion was, and pursed his lips into a frown. He didn't speak, but helped Harry clean it up with magic. Only afterwards did the lecture begin.

"Look, you have got to stop this mate. I honestly think you're turning into a chronic alcoholic. I understand how you feel, but I'm not going as far as you are."

"You do NOT understand," Harry whispered through gritted teeth, "because you do not feel responsible for all these deaths. If I had handed myself over, Voldemort would have stopped murdering."

"No he wouldn't, he would have carried on and no-one would have dared to question him because he was controlling them. Stop acting like you've lost more than you have. I've lost many friends, mentors and even a brother." Ron choked up slightly.

"Stop trying to get sympathy. I've lost all the things you have."

Ron looked slightly stunned, maybe at the fact Harry considered Fred a brother. Then, remembering the argument and realising there'd be no point in continuing, he shook his head and turned away from Harry.

* * *

><p>The next day, Mrs Weasley sent Ginny and Harry out to water the plants. It was the first time they'd been alone together since he'd arrived. She looked even better than he'd imagined, and she smelt fresh and flowery.<p>

After they'd finished and fed the chickens, they sat on the grass, looking out. Harry wanted nothing more than to turn and kiss her, but he refrained.

"Look at that," Ginny whispered.

"What?" Harry asked.

"The flowers," she said, "can you see the dead ones amongst the living ones?"

Harry nodded, furrowing his brow. The deceased flowers were a more than slightly conspicuous.

"Well, look," she continued, "look at how bright the others are, despite the fact that their near and dear are dead. It must be hard work, but they manage."

Harry was surprised. How had she guessed...? Then it dawned on him.

"Did you hear my conversation with Ron last night?" It made sense, since their rooms were next door.

Ginny wore a grim expression and shrugged. "Walls are pretty thin."

Harry stood up menacingly. "Well, Ginny, flowers don't have _feelings_. That's kind of the point."

Harry turned swiftly on his heel and marched back into the house. Ginny softly sighed and fiercely plucked the grass out of the ground, her scarlet locks flying back in the breeze.


End file.
